


Invitation to the Dance

by spikes_heart



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikes_heart/pseuds/spikes_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy's feeling under the weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invitation to the Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Sunday Post September 'dance' challenge at Spuffy Haven on Live Journal

Buffy was sick. Not the flushed cheeks and shiny eyes kind of illness for her, however. More the flop-sweaty, stringy-haired, boogery-nosed, teary-eyed, phlegmy-coughed, vomiting until your ribs ached kind of sickness. It had been a long, long time since she’d felt this badly, and she wasn’t handling it well.

“You really need to see the doc, love,” Spike tried, his patience wearing thin after a handful of days. “Slayer healing not-withstanding, you’re not getting any better.”

She shook her head and was immediately sorry since it sent the room spinning. “No doctor,” Buffy moaned pathetically. “I’m getting better.”

Spike laughed. “I could always just toss you over my shoulder and haul your delectable arse straight to emergency. You’re weak as a kitten, kitten.”

**cough** “I could **hack** still…” **sneeze**

“Still what, love? Try and infect me to death?” he chortled, sitting on the bed next to her; smoothing the hair from her face. “One: already dead, and two: vampire constitution… can’t catch anything.”

 _Oh god, no… not the lip!_ Unable to resist her when she pouted, Spike moved in close for a kiss, and was rewarded with a wet sneeze.

“I’m so sorry, Spike,” Buffy whimpered. “I’m disgusting.”

“Not to me, love,” he insisted. “Been covered in worse by things I love considerably less than you.”

“But…”

“No buts, petal. Gonna make you all clean and comfy and then we can settle in and have a movie watch together. Be right back,” he said, heading towards the bathroom.

Spike half-filled the tub with lukewarm water and some of the lavender aromatherapy bath oil Buffy favored. He stripped off his tee and then undressed her. Gently lifting Buffy into his arms, he carried her into the bathroom and settled her into the tub.

“Water temp good, love?” he asked, watching as Buffy’s eyes closed as she savored both the feeling and the smell. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Old Spike’ll take real good care of you.”

Kneeling at the side of the tub, Spike soaped up a purple scrubby with body wash and stroked her arms, one at a time until they pinkened from the friction. He then moved on to her legs, starting at the toes and ending at her hips. He also paid attention to her breasts and personal bits. If she’d been well, this activity would have led to a rollicking night of fun for all, but tonight was all about easing her discomfort. The sex could wait.

Cradling Buffy’s skull in his right hand, he lowered her head into the water, sluicing the liquid through the strands until it was completely wet. He flicked the cap open on her shampoo and squeezed a dollop of the gel onto her hair. With both hands, he began a thorough massage, working the suds into her long, sodden locks.

“Mmmm, Spike,” she murmured. “Those hands of yours should be national treasures.”

“Only in service to my lady,” he said, rinsing off the shampoo with clear water from the tap. He helped her to stand, wrapped her in a large fluffy towel and carried her back to bed.

Once Buffy was dry, he’d helped her into her favorite pair of Yummy Sushi pajamas, version two. He remembered searching the internet for them as a birthday surprise when her old pair had finally worn out. He’d gotten a very lovely thank you the night he’d presented them to her.

Spike got into bed and sat against the headboard, pulling Buffy into the space between his legs. “Lean back, precious. Need to dry your lovely mane before you catch a chill.”

It was rare when Spike had the chance to do this for her. Buffy always had a strict regime when it came to her hair, but for now, he didn’t mind taking advantage of her weakness to indulge in his favorite pastime. He’d done for Dru when she couldn’t do for herself and had secretly enjoyed the feel of the long silken strands running through his fingers. Now, he enjoyed any time he could get his hands on Buffy, but her hair… that was special. 

“Spike?”

“Yes, pet?”

“I’m sorry.” **sniffles**

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”

Buffy twisted her head around until Spike could see her face. “I’m sorry I cut my hair.”

Spike was momentarily confused. Her tresses almost reached the small of her back when they weren’t curled. Then the penny dropped. She was obviously referring to the time she’d cut off her hair to spite him when he’d professed his love her bouncy locks.

“All water under the bridge, love,” he soothed, hugging her tightly to his chest. “Just look at the treasure you have now.” He smoothed her hair back once again, letting the silken strands run through his fingers. “An’ I can indulge in it any time I like.”

She smiled at that, nestling back further against him.

Spike picked up the remote on the nightstand and turned on the telly and the blu-ray player, starting the movie he’d set up earlier. When the familiar strains of the Ronettes’ _Be My Baby_ filled the air, Buffy sat up.

“Really, Spike?” she asked, giving him a small eye-roll. “Dirty Dancing?”

“Nobody puts Buffy in a corner,” he paraphrased, smiling at her.

**cough** “I love this movie, but I didn’t think it was quite your thing,” she said, snuggling back into his embrace.

“It’s a modern classic,” Spike insisted. “Besides, Baby reminds me of bitty you, all round-cheeked and baby-fat, ‘cept even then you’d put all them bints to shame, either on the dance floor, or off.”

“If I’m Baby… you could be my bad boy, Johnny,” she said, obviously taken with the idea. “Same black jeans, black tee… he even wears a leather jacket at the end.”

“Had your Scooby gang look down their noses at me, not to mention old Rupes bein’ so protective,” Spike agreed.

Buffy smiled as they danced on the screen. “It’s really no more than sex while dressed, isn’t it? Is that why…”

This time it was Spike’s turn to smile. “I’ve always said it’s all we’ve ever done, an’ I promise you – when you’re feelin’ up to it – we’ll ‘dance’ in earnest an’ make up for lost time.

Nodding, Buffy watched the rest of the movie, and had the most delicious [dream](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v41/spikes_heart/Spike/dirtydancingrme.jpg) that night.


End file.
